Enlarged with AI from a smaller original
Bare tree and owl under a full moon
Realism · Calf · Black and grey · Photo
A bare, twisting tree with fine branches spreads up the leg, with a small owl perched on a branch to the right of the trunk. A pale full moon sits behind the canopy, and the branches are shaded with soft greys and darker outlines. The photograph shows the same tattoo from two angles against a dark background, with no colour ink.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
Tuesday, and the frost has got into the cabin again. Dad says the stove will see us through until Thursday, but I have counted the coal twice and there is not enough for Thursday. The lock at Hillmorton has been empty since noon, so we are tied up below it with the other boats, and the ash on the towpath has lost the last of its leaves. Its branches go every which way, like someone drew them in a hurry and then went over them with a dirty thumb.
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The owl has taken up residence on the low limb nearest the water. Ted says it is a tawny, but Ted says a lot of things after the second pint. Every evening when the moon comes up over the hedge it sits there as if it is waiting for the lock keeper to open the gates. I have started taking my tea out to watch it. Last night the moon was so full and white it made the whole tree look cut from paper, and the owl turned its head right round to look at me, as if I was the one who ought to explain myself.
Dad came down the towpath this morning with a bag of logs from a branch that came down in the wind by the bridge. He would not say who gave them to him. I think he took them, which is not the same thing. I asked if he wanted me to write to Mum and he said she would only tell him to come home, and he said it as if that were a reasonable answer.
I will leave this open on the table so you can read it when the boat comes in. If the lock stays shut I will walk up to the tree tonight and see whether the owl is still there. I am not frightened of it. I am only tired of being the one who waits.
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